How Do You Know If You're A Dog Person?:

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

Lintwheels are on your shopping list every week.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there are nose-prints all over the inside.

Poop has become a source of conversation for you and your significant other.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

Your dog sleeps with you.

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but she understands.

Your dog eats cat poop, but you still let her kiss you (but not immediately afterward, of course).

You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your dog.

You put an extra blanket on the bed so your dog can be comfortable.

You'd rather stay home on Saturday night and cuddle your dog than go to the movies with your sweetie

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves to go with you.

You open your purse, and that big bunch of baggies you use for pick-ups pops out.

You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massage just so you can use it towash your dog in the tub, without making the dog sit hip-deep in water.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard chirping "Meg, pee!"; over and over again, while Meg tends to play and forget what she's out there for (but what your neighbors think of your behavior is yet another story).

You and the dog come down with something like flu on the same day. Your dog sees the vet while you settle for an over-the-counter remedy from the drugstore.

Your dog is getting old and arthritic, so you go buy lumber and build her a small staircase so she can climb onto the bed by herself.

Your license plate or license plate frame mentions your dog.

You match your furniture/carpet/clothes to your dog.

You have your dog's picture on your office desk (but no one else's)

You lecture people on responsible dog ownership every chance you get.

You hang around the dog section of your local bookstore.

You skip breakfast so you can walk your dog in the morning before work.

You are the only idiot walking in the pouring rain because your dog needs her walk.

You don't go to happy hours with co-workers any more because you need to go home and see your dog.

Your parents refer to your pet as their granddog.

Your friend's dog acts as Best Dog at your wedding.

Your weekend activities are planned around taking your dog for a hike (both days).

You keep an extra water dish in your second-floor bedroom, in case your dog gets thirsty at night (after all, her other dish is way down on the first floor).

You never completely finish a piece of food (so your dog gets a taste, too).

You shovel a zig-zag path in the back yard snow so your dog can reach all her favorite spots.

You avoid vacuuming the house as long as possible because your dog is afraid of the vacuum cleaner.

You keep eating even after finding a dog hair in your pasta.

You make popcorn just to play catch with your dog.

You carry pictures of your dog in your wallet instead of pictures of your parents, siblings, significant other, or anyone else remotely human.